


Another Three Days

by wear_a_different_chain (orphan_account)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/wear_a_different_chain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story picks up when Valjean escapes with Cosette, pursued by Javert, after Valjean and Javert spent a couple of days together, trying to fit Cosette a new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Three Days

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Three Days (or The One Where Javert and Valjean Take a Road Trip Through France and Raise a Child)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/631295) by [zamwessell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zamwessell/pseuds/zamwessell). 



> This work is an alternate ending to the story Three Days by zamwessell. Please read that wonderful story first - the link is [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/631295/chapters/1141734) It came about because I can't stand the idea of Javert NOT being a policeman. So I wrote.... well, THIS. Go read and see. Or better yet, go read zamwessell, because she inspired this. I honestly have no idea what you are doing HERE.

\- - - 

Javert was as good as his word. As Valjean and Cosette disappeared from his sight, Javert turned away from them with an air of a man intent on fulfilling his duty. He headed for the Police Headquarters.

He knew what he had to do now. While he also knew that he would be unable to lie, Javert realised that he would also be unable to arrest Valjean. But he was Police – he could still chase Valjean, honestly and to the best of his abilities. He knew that Valjean would be on the road out of town by the next day, well out of reach of the local guards, and even should Javert post notice of the escaped convict, Valjean would be well away from the danger of being caught. 

The idea that he was bending justice to favour Valjean had not even occurred to Javert, so concerned was he with doing what was right.

The letter he composed to the Chief of Police gave the most accurate description of Valjean that Javert could provide, down to the clothes on Valjean's back.

Having completed his duty, Javert was horrified to realise that he did not want the Police to catch Valjean, and worse yet, he himself did not want to catch Valjean. 

He walked about town, patrolling, until the time at which he knew Valjean and Cosette would be leaving town, then headed towards where he knew the carriage they would take stood in wait of the two of them.

Valjean had an odd look on his face upon seeing Javert. It was not a look that Javert was used to seeing from Valjean. No. It was the look that Javert was used to receiving from Monsieur Le Maire since Javert was transferred to Montreuil-Sur-Mer. But there was also something else in it, something that Javert knew did not belong in Toulon. It was not the look of a criminal.

“Javert, what are you doing here?” Valjean asked, holding onto Cosette's hand. “Have you changed your mind?” There was a worried tone to his voice.

Changed his mind about what? Javert wondered. Oh. 

“No, I have not come to arrest you, Valjean,” Javert told him quietly, dark eyes intent on the ex-convict. He knew that he could never arrest Valjean now. It would not be justice. And Javert was always about doing justice.

“Is this carriage private?” Javert asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Valjean answered. “The coachman will be back in a moment, and we will be off,” he added, confused as to what Javert was asking.

Javert motioned for Valjean to get inside the carriage. He told Cosette to stay by the carriage and to go nowhere as he got inside after Valjean.

When they came out, Javert was wearing Valjean's clothes and Valjean was in Javert's uniform. Javert looked out of place without his usual cloak, carrying his bludgeon in broad daylight.

“Why, Javert?” Valjean asked, uncomprehending.

“I had to give them an exact description of you,” Javert answered. “They will be looking for a man wearing your clothes. These clothes,” Javert pointed to the clothes he was wearing. 

They looked at each other.

“This is good-bye, Valjean,” Javert told him quietly, seriously. “If I catch you next time, I will have to arrest you.” 

Valjean nodded.

“I hope I won't catch you,” Javert surprised Valjean by saying, drawing Valjean's head up to stare, wide-eyed, at Javert.

The coachman was coming towards them now. Valjean opened the door for Cosette to get in the carriage, before turning around and looking beseechingly at Javert.

On an impulse, Valjean held out his hand for Javert and Javert took it. 

“I hope we will meet again, Inspector,” he said in a loudness only Javert could hear. “In better circumstances.”

And quite without thinking, Javert answered Valjean's plea. "I promise." But he hoped it would not come to pass. Because then he would have to come at Valjean in his official capacity...

Then he got into the carriage, and Javert closed the door behind the both of them.

He stood there a long while yet, long after the carriage was no longer in sight, motionless, as one made of shadow and darkness, before one long shudder went through his body as though the Inspector had come to life at last, and Javert turned away from the road, and, movements precise, started walking back towards the Police Precinct.

He pulled his coat about him, so that his lack of a uniform would not be obvious at first glance.

He needed to change his clothes before he would give chase after Valjean and the girl in the morning.

\- - - 

Javert on the chase was as good as a blood-hound. Valjean had no idea how he managed to avoid being caught as he lifted Cosette over a formidable, overgrown fence just above Javert's head. 

Javert had not even looked up as Valjean and Cosette disappeared in the recesses of what turned out to be the Paris Convent.

\- - - 

Years came and went, as is their wont. Cosette grew up, they left the Convent and settled in a beautiful home with a walk-in garden. 

Thenardier nearly spoiled everything by his greed. Javert was there, having come to his rescue. Valjean did not know how Javert possibly found out that they needed help, but he was infinitely grateful as he silently climbed down from the window, at the last moment, to avoid being caught by the Police.

He did not hear Javert's exultation.

"The devil!" ejaculated Javert between his teeth, "he must have been the most valuable of the lot."

\- - - 

Javert laid eyes on Valjean for the first time after these long ten years at the barricade. 

Valjean had white hair now, and an unreadable look on his face as he asked Enjolras to let him have the prisoner, Inspector Javert.

Valjean had taken him into an uninhabitable alley, far from the eyes of the barricade inhabitants and no witnesses save those long-dead, piled mournfully one on top of another.

“Javert, look at me.”

Javert raised his eyes to look into Valjean's. 

Better do it quickly, lest they think you betrayed them and come after you next.”

The statement was no less than the truth, and Javert was a man who was used to only uttering them, but Valjean paled at hearing the words and his hand clenched around the knife he held, violently. He came closer.

“I am ready, Valjean. You need have no regrets,” Javert told him in quiet seriousness. It was actually preferable to die. He had prayed not to lay eyes on Valjean ever again, fearing what he would have to do if he found him. Now he found him, and the prospect was not welcome. But if he was dead, there would be no question of dereliction of duty should Javert fail to bring in the convict who all these years had evaded parole... 

Arms came round him and Javert's mind told him that he was not being executed, not by far. But was being embraced like a long lost friend, held tightly in Valjean's warm grip, brought to the convict's breast as it beat convulsively against Javert's own.

It felt as though they shared a heart beat.

When they pulled apart, Valjean's eyes were shining with tears.

Wordlessly, he turned Javert around and undid his bonds with the clasp-knife, first his neck, then his hands, then his feet, until Javert stood before Valjean, free.

“Go,” he told Javert.

“They will not forgive you for releasing me, Valjean,” Javert told him matter-of-factually.

In response Valjean took out his pistol and fired it upwards.

“Now they think you are dead,” he said and pocketed the pistol. “Go, Javert. Get out of here.”

Javert looked into Valjean's eyes, beseeching. “What about you?” He did not take a single step away from where he stood with Valjean.

Valjean smiled wryly. “I do not expect to come away from here alive. But if, by some chance, I survive, know that you may find me at No 7 Rue de l'Homme Arme. Cosette is all grown up and I expect will not need me for longer. You may come and arrest me at any time, Inspector.” 

Javert looked as though Valjean had slapped him. But he said nothing. Instead he stored the address in the depths of his mind, turned, and started walking away from Valjean and the barricade, along an unilluminated street. 

He turned back only once.

“What brought you to the barricade, Valjean? I noticed you making certain not to kill any members of the Guard.” Javert asked, unheard by anyone other than Valjean over the gunfire coming from the barricade.

Valjean smiled. “Cosette is in love with a boy who came to fight at the barricade. I hope that, if anyone, he gets to walk away from here unharmed, for her sake.”

Javert had nothing to say to that. Instead he turned and resumed walking away from Valjean and the barricade, Valjean's words ringing in his ears like a death knell.

No 7 Rue de l'Homme Arme. 

Javert's vision blurred for a moment until he forced himself back in control.

He now knew exactly the location of Jean Valjean.

There was no longer a means for Javert to avoid arresting him.

\- - - 

To distract himself from thoughts of Jean Valjean, Javert busied himself at the Police Precinct by reporting of events that had occurred at the barricade before going out on patrol again. It was a sort of providence that he caught sight of Thenardier, skulking about and decided to follow him.

Thenardier was raiding corpses – victims of the barricade, the National Guard, they were all the same to Thenardier and signaled to him only a way to enrich himself. 

What a despicable fellow, Javert concluded to himself and glady picked up the chase.

He did not think of Valjean once, completely engrossing himself in his new mission.

\- - - 

The man who went into the sewers was not the same man who had just come out, that much Javert realised.

Still, it could have been some ruse, Javert would certainly not put Thenardier above trickery, as he approached the hunched over figure, covered in sewage and carrying another. 

He was right. It wasn't Thenardier.

“What are you doing here, Valjean?” 

Valjean had gotten used to the fact that Javert no longer referred to him as “thou.”

“He is injured and I am bringing him to his relatives,” Valjean answered.

It was probably the boy with whom Cosette fashioned herself in love with. 

The injured man turned out to be Marius from the barricade.

Seeing the expression on Javert's face, Valjean wordlessly offered him Marius' pocket-book so that Javert could read their destination for himself.

“ _Coche!_ ” Javert called the coachman and helped Valjean settle Marius on the back seat of the carriage while he shared the front seat with Valjean.

\- - - 

After leaving Marius with Monsieur Gillenormand, Valjean and Javert wordlessly got back into the coach. 

Their legs brushed as they sat together on the seat. Even though there was surely enough room for the both of them, they sat together anyway. Javert was a warm presence beside Jean Valjean.

“I suppose you will be wanting to speak with the girl, now?” Javert asked, resigned. There was no coolness to his voice reminiscent of that which he employed when speaking with criminals.

“Just for a moment. To let her know about Marius.” Valjean nodded. “Then you may do as you like with me.”

Javert's lips thinned at that, but he did not reply. Instead he motioned to the driver and told him their new destination.

“Rue de l'Homme Arme. No 7.”

They did not open their lips again during the whole space of their ride.  
\- - - 

He paid the coachman off for his time and watched the man drive off with no measure of regret.

Valjean stared at Javert. Wasn't Javert planning on taking him to the Police?

Then he remembered that they were not far away, and Javert might have merely planned to have them make up the distance by walking.

It seemed rude somehow to leave one's companion on the door-step (even if Javert was an agent of the Police, here only to arrest Valjean, and in no terms could be referred to as social company), so Valjean invited Javert to come inside.

“ _Je vous attends ici_ ,” Javert shook his head at the invitation, but Valjean would have none of it.

“I have a letter to write, as well, and it would not be kind to leave you all alone on my door-step at night,” Valjean extended the invitation. He smiled at Javert as he offered the invitation.

_And he did not see that smile in so long..._

Baffled, Javert had no choice but to acquiesce.

\- - - 

The letter turned out to be a Letter of Intent, bequeathing all of Valjean's wealth to Cosette in case something happened to him. It lay on the table between them now, Valjean having taken it upon himself to serve his guest tea after their long journey. It was night-time and the servants were asleep. 

Javert stared around the room in wonder. Valjean had been so calm about his upcoming arrest, his future lifelong imprisonment, that the bemused Javert did not know what to think.

Where any normal man would balk at the idea of returning to prison, Valjean had not only not batted an eyelash... he had merely written out his last will concerning Cosette.

There was not a single attempt to escape his fate.

Even now, Javert was certain that Valjean was doing little more than puttering about his kitchen brewing tea, as he had said. Javert didn't even feel the need to go check that this was indeed Valjean's occupation, to ascertain that the man was not going to run off.

It occurred to him that the burden of arrest lay heavier on Javert than on Valjean.

Like a stone crushing him, a stone that only Valjean would have the strength to lift and free him, perhaps, the heaviness of what he must do weighed on Javert's soul for the first time in his life.

He had to arrest this man in order to carry out justice. Valjean. The criminal who commits no crime. 

The thought was laughable.

Javert had never before been reluctant to carry out an arrest in the name of justice.

This man was a criminal, he tried to tell himself. Even if he had done nothing wrong all these long years. He had nevertheless committed a robbery after his release from prison and did not confess it. Worse, he ran from justice, avoided parole from them on. 

These were all offenses punishable by a life sentence in prison.

And still it was Javert who felt guilty for what he must do.

Valjean's shaggy white hair appeared in the doorway as the man returned, carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea with a kettle between them, and suddenly Javert could not bear any more.

What kind of justice did he serve anyway, if it considered it right and just to arrest a reformed man? Damn Valjean's iniquities - they were all in the past. Why was there not a provision to let criminal bygones be bygones in cases where reformation had so clearly occurred? 

It suddenly became clear to Javert that he was willing to do ANYTHING not to have to arrest Valjean. Anything.

Damn it all. He had to get out of here. Before he set himsef up to do something he would regret.

“I must go,” he coughed, voice raspy, as he got up and went towards the door, averting his gaze from Valjean.

Valjean looked confusedly at him. “Javert?” 

“I'll... come back in the morning.” Javert's voice told him as the door closed behind the Police Inspector. Yes. That's what he would do. The further away the prospect of Valjean's inevitable arrest was, the better.

Once outside, Javert blinked a few times and realised that he was blinking away tears.

Over an ex-convict he could not find it in himself to arrest.

\- - - 

There was something not right about it all. Javert's posture all but radiated hopelessness and despair, shoulders slumped, shuffling his feet to get to the door as he was leaving.

_Javert had_ _never_ _looked like that!_

Javert had always been so confident in his actions, so authoritative, that Valjean did not think twice about setting down the tray with the tea things he had been holding all this time, grabbing his cloak, and heading out the door after the Inspector.

Coat pulled up tightly against him, it was impossible to make out any of Javert's facial expressions and gestures when he was cloaked in shadow. 

Valjean kept well enough away from the Police Precinct when Javert entered. He nearly left, thinking Javert had merely gone on duty again, filling in a report or two, when Javert unexpectedly came out again, much sooner than was to be expected. Javert's hours at the Precinct were meticulously long, Javert a faithful servant of justice.

 _But now..._ The Javert who came out did not look like the Inspector Javert that Valjean had known these long years, either. He looked... as broken and beaten down as Valjean had felt in Toulon.

Head drooping, shoulders slumped, Javert saw nothing as he shuffled along the streets of Paris, seemingly with no direction whatsoever. Anyone who did not know him, would think he was inebriated. Anyone who knew him even half as well, as Jean Valjean did, would realise that Javert was in the grip of the deepest turmoil.

Valjean did not marvel that he now knew Javert well enough to know that something was wrong.

Silently, he simply followed behind Javert, intent on the man's destination.

\- - - 

Javert stood staring into the depths of the Seine. 

He had spent the last ten years of his life, vowing that if he ever caught Jean Valjean, that he would bring him to justice. 

It was the right thing to do.

Now, to his horror, Javert realised that it would not be justice to do so.

And yet, he had no other alternative. This was his responsibility. 

Except he could not bring himself to do what was essentially Javert's _raisson d'etre_.

Thoughts like that only dragged Javert further into despair.

\- - - 

Valjean watched Javert take off his hat, and place it on the parapet.

When Javert leaned over, Valjean realised with sick horror what it was that Javert was about to do.

No longer caring about being seen, Valjean quit himself of his hiding place in the shadows and ran to the man who was dangerously leaning over the parapet.

A splash followed and quite without thinking, Valjean found himself falling into the water after the Inspector of Police.

The water beat at him mercilessly from all sides, and Valjean realised that he was about to drown, but still there was only one thought in his head.

Jean Valjean prayed to God to let him save Javert.

\- - - 

No one saw the lone figure emerge from the water, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, start to pull something out of the water.

Soon, another shadow emerged. And afterward, the two shadows seemed to merge together.

In reality, these were no ordinary shadows. 

One shadow was Jean Valjean, wearily crawling out of the rushing waters of the Seine. The other shadow was Javert, whom he was pulling onto the embankment with what remained of his strength.

Valjean had been in hospitals during his term as Monsieur Le Maire, saw the doctors handle a few cases in front of him so what he had to do next was not so foreign to him, as might have seemed otherwise.

He turned Javert over onto his stomach, and, enfolding the Inspector in a crushing embrace, attempted to compress the river water out of the man who had just tried to drown himself. 

_For you. He tried to drown himself to avoid arresting_ you, _Valjean._

He tried not to think too much about that. 

The river came flowing out in a small torrent out of Javert's nose and mouth, but the man did not awaken even when the torrent was steadily growing smaller and smaller, until all that remained was a trickle at the side of Javert's mouth.

Sending another prayer to God on behalf of Javert, Valjean lowered his mouth to the Inspector's and attempted to remind Javert what it was like to breathe.

Their kiss was a parody and tasted of the bitterness of the waters of the Seine, Javert's unwillingness to awaken, and Valjean's despair at not seeing through the man's actions and preventing this from happening. 

If Valjean noticed his cheeks wet with anything other than the Seine, he gave it no attention.

“Javert,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “Javert, please, wake up.”

He said this over and over, his mouth ghosting over Javert's, until he heard a cough from the man beneath him, and, quite unable to believe it, pulled away to see the Inspector's eyes open and stare into his.

Elated beyond words, his mouth pulled weakly into a smile as he whispered the Inspector's name. 

Javert said nothing, and, looking intently at Valjean's shadowy face, not moving, suddenly had a large shudder and lunged at Valjean, catching him by his cravat and melding their mouths together. 

"I won't do it, Valjean," he whispered, his face mere centimetres from Valjean's.

Valjean gasped and a sob came out. _Of all the unimportant things for Javert to think about, now..._

"I don't care about that," he whispered hoarsely against the back of Javert's head, clutching at him like a drowning man. "Don't do that again, Javert. Please. We'll.... figure all this out. The two of us. Somehow."

Javert made and unintelligible sound and returned Valjean's embrace.

They remained like that for what seemed an eternity, both just as unwilling to let go.

Only when the man's hand went slack did Valjean realise that Javert had fallen unconscious.

But he was breathing, his breast rising and falling against Valjean's.

Valjean smiled.

Javert will live.

\- - - 

He did not know quite how he managed it, but Valjean carried Javert in his arms all the way back to No 7 Rue de l'Homme Arme. 

Javert did not stir when Valjean extricated a hand, picked up the Inspector's hat off the parapet, and placed it somewhere on Javert's middle as he walked home, carrying his precious armful.

\- - - 

The tea that Valjean left on the tray had long since grown cold when Valjean chanced to look upon it, having returned home once again.

He placed Javert on the settee, unmindful of the mess that the Seine river water will make of it, as he set to the task of getting Javert out of his wet clothes.

Javert's uniform fell on the floor in a heap of wetness, but when the task was complete, Valjean wrapped the duvet around Javert and carried him upstairs to his room. His own wet things fell into an unmindful heap on top of Javert's.

He could have woken Toussand to prepare the guest-room for Javert, but neither he nor Javert were exactly dressed for any sort of female company right now and he could imagine that always looking proper was not without importance to Javert.

Plus it was the middle of the night. He did not wish to rob anyone of their sleep on his behalf. He carried Javert up the stairs.

In his bedroom, Valjean set Javert down into one of the arm-chairs by the hearth, its embers still glowing, while he took the covers off and pulled the sheets away.

Then he set Javert between the sheets and covered him up well with the blankets. On second thought, he put a new log into the fire to create more warmth. He did not like the blue tint to Javert's lips.

Javert was asleep.

He was not about to awaken Javert and ask if the man wanted tea.

So he fetched the tray, now stone-cold, and set it before the fire as he sat down in one of the arm-chairs. 

Sipping slowly, he glanced over at the bed where Javert lay, motionless save for his chest rising and falling. 

\- - - 

Some time during the night, Javert started shivering and woke up, his hands and feet ice cold and his fingers and toes blue-tinted. He was too disoriented to even ask about his whereabouts. That would probably change by morning.

Wordlessly, Valjean took off his outer clothes, crawled into bed beside Javert clad only in his night clothes, and pulled the man closer to his own body for warmth.

It had taken another blanket on top of the both of them and the duvet on top of all that, before the man stopped shivering in Valjean's arms and Valjean heard the even sounds of a man asleep before he allowed his own sleep to claim him.

\- - - 

Javert woke up feeling comfortable for the first time in his life. 

Until he saw Valjean's sleeping face next to his own and the events of the previous night slowly began filtering in through his brain. 

He remembered the barricade. Bringing the boy home. Sitting with Valjean. Deciding that...

Javert turned his face into the pillow just in time to absorb hot tears seeping from under his eye-lids. 

_Did Valjean jump into the river after me? But how in the world did he manage to get the both of us out?_

Overwhelmed at the realisation, Javert turned on his side away from Valjean as tears continued to course silently down his cheeks. He noticed that he was warm now, so comfortably warm, and the fact that this too was due in no small part by Valjean, who apparently thought nothing of it to crawl into bed with a man who would have no qualms carting him off to jail, and do it all of it for Javert out of the goodness of his heart, just to save his life, made Javert's shoulders shake as shudders wracked through his body. 

He wept soundlessly into his pillow, cowed by knowing the simple kindness of a man who owed him no kindnesses.

“Javert?” a voice hoarse from sleep whispered from somewhere beside him. But Valjean asked no more. Perhaps he realised what was going on, because he merely brought the covers that dropped off them during the night back over the two of them, and, bringing Javert closer to his warmth, embraced him as they drifted off to sleep once more.

\- - - 

Valjean woke first. Javert was still asleep, but, no longer freezing cold or blue-tinted, he left the man to sleep peacefully while he got out of bed and got dressed, performing his ablutions. 

During breakfast, he greeted Toussand and Cosette with a 'Good Morning' as was his wont, and inquired of Cosette's plans for today. 

He told the both of them that they had a special guest with them, and that more likely he would stay with them for a few days until he recuperated.

Toussand prepared a breakfast tray for Javert while he asked Cosette to run over to the Police Prefecture and let them know that Inspector Javert had fallen ill and would not make it in for the next two days. It was a risk to leave his own coordinates at the Prefecture just to help Javert out, but there was nothing to be done. Besides, Valjean had made peace with the fact that he would have to face them in the near future, and so was more or less prepared for the possible eventualities that may arise.

Breakfast tray in hand, he went upstairs to see to Javert.

\- - - 

If Javert was surprised to see Valjean, he was even more surprised to see Valjean with a breakfast tray for him, Javert.

Nevertheless, he allowed Valjean to set the tray on his knees and dutifully ate everything that was offered to him. 

While he ate, Valjean let him know that the Prefecture would not be expecting him today, and, should anything happen, they knew where Javert was should they need to reach him.

That surprised Javert out of taking his next mouthful as he stared at Valjean.

Valjean poured tea into Javert's tea cup.

“You are not afraid of them coming to inquire about me? And see you here?” 

“I sent Cosette over to let them know. I did not go there myself,” Valjean answered slowly. “But, I suppose, should they come here and recognise me, I should have no choice.”

That did not sit right with Javert. He did not want to be the reason Valjean was imprisoned. Not anymore. Especially not after... He turned his head away.

Deciding that he will not stay and impinge on Valjean's hospitality longer than necessary, he cleared the rest of his breakfast efficiently, out of respect for his host.

It was exquisite. Valjean had a good palate. The thought about how that was possible with Valjean being a convict did not even enter into Javert's mind. Valjean was Monsieur le Maire for almost as long as he was a convict.

He encountered the obstacle when he made to get up and get dressed, and promptly realised that his uniform was no good for him as he failed to find his clothes near the bed.

He was completely naked. He must have been undressed out of his wet things when Valjean brought him in the night.

Valjean came back with an armful of clothes that suspiciously resembled his uniform. 

“Where...” He began, bemused.

“I always meant to give them back to you, with my gratitude,” Valjean told him, handing him the clothes. Then, seeing Javert without any recognition, he added. “You had us switch clothes all those years ago. When you helped me. I trust these clothes will still suit you?” He added, careful.

Realisation dawned. Valjean had kept his uniform all this time. He glanced at it. Neatly laundered, starched, and pressed. 

“Thank you,” Javert murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Valjean left him alone to get dressed.

\- - - 

Walking along the riverbank of the Seine, Javert no longer felt the inclination to jump. Somehow, it did not feel right to throw away Valjean's kindness like this. He never expected Valjean to care quite that much about him, but now that he had shown this kindness to Javert, Javert found he could not turn away and pretend like it was nothing.

He found he could not resign from the Prefecture, either. The Chief of Police was so impressed with Javert's suggestions, that he proceeded to have them implemented right away and if Javert was not able to return to his old post, it was because he was promoted on the spot for being an exemplary policeman. 

It would be wrong not to acknowledge the promotion for what it was and to be anything less than grateful for it.

\- - - 

Cosette and Marius married and Cosette moved out of No 7 Rue de l'Homme Arme. 

Javert found himself moving in, mostly at the quiet suggestion of Valjean.

They spent their evenings by the fire, discussing anything – from Valjean's latest exploits into charity that he felt compelled to share with Javert for some reason Javert was sure he did not know, to Javert's work for the Prefecture. 

One evening Valjean took hold of his hand and did not let go the entire evening.

Javert did not mind. The weather outside was cold and anything that kept the cold away was welcome. 

They had become friends by then. Something neither of them had expected. But neither of them minded the occurrence either.

Valjean no longer spent the night in his bed, since that once when Javert required it. 

They shared everything from their meals – they had them together, to quiet evenings at home, in front of a warm hearth, to embracing – which became a ritual to them because neither knew just how welcome the touch of another human being could be until they experienced it together.

One evening when Javert had been so late coming home that he ended up arriving at an ungodly hour, Valjean had been so distraught that he put his arms round Javert, and Javert, not knowing what else to do, returned the embrace and they just stood there, in each other's arms, no other witnesses of their attachment to each other except themselves. 

That was the evening Javert kissed Valjean.

The next day Valjean looked uncomfortable and on the verge of saying something, but he remained silent the whole day, as though deciding something.

Then he kissed Javert back that very evening.

They shared a bed that evening. The year's winter was unexpectedly cold, and, as it turned out, neither of them enjoyed needlessly wasting wooden logs merely for their own individual benefit.

More kisses followed until they fell asleep in each other's embrace.

After that, Javert insisted that his bed was sufficiently big and having Valjean share it would not cause him undue discomfort.

When Javert retired from the Police, he made sure to take the secret of Valjean's whereabouts away into retirement with him. 

They moved to the country side. 

Cosette and Marius visit them from time to time, especially when their first child was born and they insisted they wanted Valjean to be the godfather. The look on Valjean's face at this news made Javert realise that he had been in love with the man for a while now.

When he told Valjean, the man smiled and embraced Javert and told him that he had long since fallen in love with Inspector Javert.

“But I am not monsieur le inspector anymore,” Javert nearly grumbled until he caught the look on Valjean's face. And smiled.

It was not a perfect life, but to the both of them, it was better than living without the other.

**Author's Note:**

> It looks like you've read this to the end. *lifts eyes up in astonishment and starts to clap. Slowly.* (I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me what you hated whilst reading this.)


End file.
